


Wolf Dreams

by hightechzombie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hightechzombie/pseuds/hightechzombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One sleeps to forget. One dreams to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf Dreams

One sleeps to forget. One dreams to remember.

The Dread Wolf stirs uneasily, but does not wake up. The trees whisper, the trees mourn. Their branches shield Fen'Harel like a protective hand.

Outside, a nation is dying. Temples and palaces are being ravaged. War weakened the elites, so the marked slaves have struck. The rebellion weakened the nation and invaders find easy victory. The People are no more.

The Dread Wolf growls in sleep, but he calms as he stumbles upon a different dream. The Fade is big. Almost big enough to outrun the past.

A child playing in the forest. It laughs and chases a squirrel, but it does not see the sudden cliff just ahead. The child yelps, as the ground gives away and he slides down. Unharmed. The forest spirit dances around him, chiding the clumsy child. Bruised and with a quivering lip, the child runs home.

Fen'Harel approaches and greets the spirit. It answers as it is in its nature: it runs. Fen'Harel gives chase, as the spirit playfully evades and hides, to be found and followed once again. Their game forges a friendship. The blade of loneliness is blunted. The despair's howl weakens.

The Dread Wolf perks his ears, but it is nothing. The winter clothes the grove in white. Snow and silence replace the song of the leaves.

The Fade is a land of past and present alike. You can escape in any direction, find and lose everything that ever existed. New follies, new joy and tragedies. Fen'Harel collects the dreams to forget his own. The leather chafing against the skin, gentle lips against his, wounds and mournful songs become all his. Enough to replace the pain and forget the guilt.

The Dread Wolf claws against the earth. He did not want to doom them! Only to save the People... instead all is lost. Fen'Harel is alone.

But is it true..? Or is the Dread Wolf deceiving himself? The remnants of the People have survived, and while they will never be the people they once were -same blood runs through their veins! While some live in slavery, some in poverty, there are others who have broken free. They walk with pride, despite being hunted and hated, weak and pathetic. The elvhen clans are well-intentioned, but misguided. The children wear their thrall markings with pride, not knowing wisdom of past. 

Yet, these children are his. "We do not have to walk alone," whispers the Fade, and Fen'Harel sees the truth as elvhen hands build a future.

The Dread Wolf stirs and raises himself. Weak, so weak! But the vessel is formidable enough to be recognized, strong enough to pass on knowledge. A god from old, glorious time. Not the whole truth, but truth enough to convince. 

Thawing snow under his paws, the forest is waking up. Shy green peeks from young buds. The wind brings promise of spring. The Dread Wolf wants to believe.

He finds the camp at night, fires burning high. The heart skips a beat when Fen'Harel hears laughter and lively conversation. The tongue of his People may be mangled by their mouths, but the children try. He will make them better.

Fen'Harel enters, hoping for spring and begging for warmth. Silence falls over the camp.

The grove is dark when Fen'Harel returns. He slips inside like shadow and feels as the protective branches above turn away in disgust. His paws are soaked red.

They did not listen. The children screamed and shouted: "Traitor! Murderer! Betrayer!"

Fen'Harel spoke and they put hands over their ears.

"You took away our gods and sold us into slavery!"

_I did what I had to._

"You destroyed our past and future!"

_I did what I had to._

"You should die, Dread Wolf, for what you have done to us!" 

_That I cannot._

Then fiery arrows. Then battle screams. Then silence and the cold breath of winter.

Fen'Harel could not sleep, could not mourn and could not weep. His howls would ring in silence. There is no pack to join in and to share the grief.

The Dread Wolf is alone and there is no one but him to blame.

When sleep comes, he wishes to never wake up.


End file.
